Paint It Black
by Micchie Bean
Summary: With her gone, all he saw was black. Nothing more, nothing less. Out of all the people, why did it have to be her? Oneshot.


How could it happen to her? God dammit, she was trained by the Bat! Why couldn't he be there to protect her? Her death should have been something so much more simple than a gun shot. A simple gun shot took her from this world, and the worst part that he couldn't tell that it might have been his gun. He almost asked Bruce not to do an autopsy on her, in fear that it really was his gun who killed her. But he knew he couldn't ask that form the man, his daughter died, and there was no way he'd let anyone get away with it. Even if it was Jason.

* * *

It was a simple mission gone wrong. Cassandra and Jason were just sent out to stop a drug bust, but it ended up to be an all-out brawl. He foolishly left her side, easily taking out the crooks. One of them made a comment on all the crude things he would do to Cass, and Jason couldn't take that. He saw red, and let his bullets fly at all of them. Yeah, he knew she was going to give him a fit over it that he killed them all, but no one was going to speak about her like that. That was 'til he saw her lying on the ground, scarlet draping over her like a curtain. The rest of the thugs decided to scram, and good thing did. Jason probably would have shot them all. Pumping, pounding, beating, his blood roared in to his eyes, and he dashed his way over to her. "Black Bat!" his hoarse voice barked at her. He shook her gently, she needed to stay alive. "Cass!" his voice dropped down to a near whimper. He could see it, the light in her eyes glazing over. Tossing over his helmet, he shifted her carefully in to his arms. "C'mon Cass, you gotta stay with me." he encouraged her, trying to keep his voice from cracking. He stroked her hair back, trying to soothe her. Jason ignored the tears that fell, quickly wiping them off her face. Her blood spilled over him, staining his jacket and pants. The blue-eyed male added slight pressure on her gunshot wound, but he knew it couldn't help. Her last breathe was taken, and he delicately slid his fingers over her eyes. The hot, sticky liquid slowly grew crusty, as he wept in to her hair. This was why he never got emotionally attached to girls. In hi line of work, they'd end up her like her. It also didn't help if she was facing danger every night. But no, Cassandra Cain crept up on him, slowly carving a place for herself in his heart. Her quirks, imperfections, all of them. She was everything he wished he could be; Bruce's favorite. But now, he lost her. How many people will he lose in his life? His parents, his second family. Even though they welcomed him back, he knew the looks he received from everyone. The wariness in their eyes. There was nothing you can do but shrug it off, no matter how much it hurts that your own family doesn't trust you. He didn't want to see the blood. He needed it to be covered up. He ripped off her black cape, and bundled her inside, trying his best to cover up that awful liquid. He thought if he saw the color again he'd be sick. Jason carried her bridal style, leaving the hood behind. It was no longer needed.

* * *

The buff man walked out of the rental shop, his blazer nicely clean and protected by a secure wrap. He refused to wear Bruce's suits. It wasn't about how much money that suit cost or the quality of it. This was about Cassandra, and she'd probably stick her tongue out at the silliness of it. Her funeral was today, in about two hours, so he had a bit more time to wander around Gotham. He planned on arriving early anyways. It's been a long time since he's visited his parents. While walking about, his eyes lay on three girls walking by. A fiery waterfall of auburn, curly honey blonde hair tied in a ponytail, a long cut inky bob all dressed in bright summer dresses. His breath was knocked out of him, and he found himself gasping for air. His heart wrenched, and his feet paced out in front of him. But sadly, the three girls weren't the ones he knew, and much to his disappointment, the raven-haired wasn't his beloved beauty. He mumbled an apology and turned his head away as the girls whispered, throwing odd glances at him. Lost in his thoughts, he quickly found himself about a mile from the towering Wayne Manor. Cars lined up , all the way up the hill. Jason was fuming. Who actually knew Cassandra? Who actually cared? How many of them were harlots trying to get in to Bruce's pants, or sneaky cons trying to attack a poor man who just lost his _daughter_? Slamming his fist at the nearest car, he impatiently waited till the window was down. "The hell you doin' boy?" the man stared up at him with wide eyes.

"What in Heaven's sake are you doing son?" he saw another one, but he recognized this one. Commissioner Gordon looked up through his glasses with curious eyes. So that meant this guy was a cop. Oh, only God knows how much Jason hates cops. "What's your name?"

He let out a menacing growl before speaking. "Jason Todd." he clenched his fists on the top of the car.

Jim's brows crunched together "I know that name..." he muttered, before his brows lifted up to his hair line. "You're Bruce's son! You're supposed to be dead, boy!" his voice shook. As a kid, Jason met the Commissioner a few times, but mostly as Robin.

Jason grunted. "Cover up story for me running away. Couldn't take the big life of a celeb's son." his deep blue eyes gazed in to the brown one of the first cops. "Now you tell me an answer. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" he cut off each word to emphasize his point. The man spluttered out that they were there to pay their condolences. Jason tsked, and gave a bitter smile. "Wrong answer." He quipped, and pulled out his gun, shooting their tires. He walked away, ignoring their shouts of protest. Walking along the line of cars, he whipped out a cigarette and trudged along. People shot him looks of pity, mostly the nosy ones that followed up n the Wayne family life. He stared back at him, and they quickly turned their heads away. He decided anyone who looked at him like that again, he'd shoot their tires. There was a lot of angry people when he reached the cemetery.

He was the first one there, an open casket. She looked so peaceful. So natural. He'd feel like her eyes would just flutter open anytime now, and she'd ask why he was watching her sleep. But she wouldn't. "Okay, okay, I know you hate these things." he talked to her as he stomped on his cig. He lifted one of her hands and placed his bouquet of roses. He hand painted them black. He liked that color on her. Red would stand out too much anyways. "G'night, Cassie. I'll see you in the future." he muttered as he laid a kiss on her forehead. He promised he'd be back, but Jason would not, can not, let death get to the better of him. It happened every day, and now, because of her death, a baby probably was born in to this world. Though Jason would never voice his opinion out loud, he was severely jealous of that baby.

* * *

Jason wished he could have not been resurrected. Looking at himself in the mirror, he despised himself. Pathetic. Worthless. Despicable. He looked inside him self, and all he saw was black. There was hope for him, even after he died and came back, there was hope to be loved. But now, the only person who actually saw him for him, not the monster that people saw, has died. Well perhaps it's time to prove them right. For he saw himself changing. He was changing in to that monster. Jason was a bomb, and Cass' death was the lighter that fused it. In the mirror's reflection, he spotted his new helmet. Black. In honor of the Black Bat to the other's eyes, but to him, for his new self. He walked over to it, his clacks of his boots echoing throughout the cave. Staring deeply in to his own mask, he questioned himself. He felt like fading away, not wanting to face the facts his life was pretty much over. It's been a month since she passed on, and they just started patrolling again. The family can carry on without him, they have once, they can do it again. They can do his work by the docks. He was pretty much useless now, and he had a strong gut feeling he'd kill anyone just because of his hurt and anger. Damian snapped, and killed a guy, but Damian didn't love her as much as Jason did. He twirled the pill bottle in his hand. Easily. Just one little pill, and he could be with her again. It would be nice not to wake up again. It's not easy knowing you're pretty much dead anyways. But Jason shoved the pill bottle back in to his jacket. That was for another day. With that, he slipped on his black helmet. The Dark Hood. It had a nice, melancholy ring to it. He still couldn't believe this happened to her though. Was it karma? Golden child Dick had his redhead, and she was shot the same place as Cass. Hell, even goody-two-shoes Tim had his bumbling blonde, who was reckless, and she too who has been tortured like Jason, is back and swinging in to action. But no, not simple outcast Jason. His girl, who has been trained to be the world's greatest assassin at eight, _eight_, is dead. Man, he felt bad for little Damian. He's going to have a lot of shit to deal with when he's older. Jason placed his helmet over his head. Tonight, he'd be playing karma.

* * *

Sometimes, he felt that if he stared in to the sun hard enough, she'd come back. He didn't know why the sun, or how he hasn't gone blind yet, but the sun was that reoccurring warmth, just as she's been. That bright ball of light that would repeatedly make way in to his life. Sometimes he can even here her laugh, but at the crack of dawn it's gone. Was some sick, twisted spirit haunting him? Whatever. He didn't need that thought right now. His head was spinning. Images flooded his mind. At first, his red, beating heart was slowly being taken over. Black oozed on to it, the organ being painted black. Then those three girls he saw on the day of her funeral. If they weren't born in to the lives they were, would that be them? Bright, cheerful? Was that the life she wanted for her children? The thought of her, he wanted to see her face. Her large, slanted eyes, with long eyelashes. Those deep brown eyes, a whole new level of innocence. Her coal-black hair, that swept along her face. Since when did he get so poetic? Jason knew he just wanted to be with her. He didn't want to see the sun, he wanted it blotted out, never to be seen again. Before Jason knew what he was doing, he slipped a pill in his mouth. A small smile crawled on to lips, as his vision grew blurry around the edges. Everything seemed slower, before darkness took over him. When he opened his eyes, he saw the most beautiful thing. Her eyes sparkling with curiosity, her smile broad with excitement. Her laugh twinkled through out the air.

"Jason."

And his black heart was fully healed. He was now at peace.

**Well! This was based off the Rolling Stone's song "Paint It Black" you should listen to it, it's amazing. It also seems better if you listen to it while reading this. And if you couldn't tell, I ship Jason and Cass. Hard. They'd be such a kickass couple. But yeah, review, tell me what you guys thought of it~! 3**


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